


caution sign

by sapphicish



Category: UnREAL (TV)
Genre: 3x04 tag, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 01:45:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14033472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphicish/pseuds/sapphicish
Summary: Drama follows Rachel like a plague, Quinn knows – one of the plagues that are all flesh-eating bacteria and boils and pain and eventual death, black or bubonic orRachel,but right now feels different.





	caution sign

**Author's Note:**

> im tired...of waiting for rachel and quinn to talk about their feelings.......  
> im tired...of waitng for them to kiss........  
> im..........tired...

They sit there for what feels like endless hours to Quinn, Rachel curled up in her lap. She thinks of pushing her away and asking what the _fuck_ is going on at least seven times, but she only ever ends up laying her hands on Rachel again, fingers sliding slowly across the roundness of a shoulder or the smoothness of brown hair. She offers her a drink around the ten-minute mark, holds the glass in front of Rachel's face in silent question, and is – denied, Rachel letting her eyes flutter shut sooner than she takes the glass.

Drama follows Rachel like a plague, Quinn knows – one of the plagues that are all flesh-eating bacteria and boils and pain and eventual death, black or bubonic or _Rachel,_ but right now feels different.

And, sure, Rachel being in her lap probably has something to do with that feeling, but – still, different, so much it makes her teeth ache and her head spin.

When Rachel falls asleep, Quinn feels it like she's the one doing it; feels Rachel's eyes drift shut and her body, once thrumming with quiet tension, melt against her thighs, feels Rachel's exhaustion seep through them both. Feels.

Quinn buries a hand in the woman's hair, closes her eyes, counts to ten.

Ends up falling asleep too.

When she wakes up, the sun is shining through the curtains and her mouth tastes like shit and Rachel is still there, curled up against her loosely, head pressed against her stomach.

Quinn shifts, just a little, and Rachel's head lifts. She raises those goddamn doe eyes, wide and dark and soft, waiting for something and Quinn doesn't know what that something is, but still feels inevitably like she's following a script when she says, “So what was all of that last night?”

Rachel sits up, combs her fingers through her loose hair, turns for the door. Quinn lost her long before she spoke, she knows, so she can't pretend to be surprised when Rachel stands, rubs her hands down her thighs. “Nothing, Quinn,” she says. Sounds like she's crying, or going to cry, or has cried, or maybe all of the above. That little crack in her voice Quinn knows so well. “It was nothing.”

_Bullshit,_ Quinn wants to say, wants to be biting and harsh and venomous, wants to drag the truth out of Rachel if she has to fight tooth and nail for it.

But Rachel is already at the door, and already opening it, and already stepping out.

Quinn breathes. Counts to ten (again). Pours herself another drink, and gets up to start a whole new shitty day.


End file.
